


babe pumpkin honeypie fuck

by weatheredlaw



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, shameless porn, this shit is untoward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-29
Updated: 2012-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 03:55:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let the record reflect that one Steve Rogers is not so fond of nicknames, even those given by the defendant, Clint Barton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	babe pumpkin honeypie fuck

**Author's Note:**

> what is this? who put this here? i don't even remember writing this oh wait yeah i wrote it on my lunch break not sorry.

"Do you know how many times I jacked off to this when I was a kid?" Steve looks up, narrows his eyes because Clint always talks at the most stupid fucking times. He bobs his head again, drags his teeth along the underside of Clint's cock and his rewarded with a swift _fuck that's good_ before Clint starts babbling again. "Like, thinkin' about Mr. Red, White and Blue lappin' at my junk." Steve sucks harder, hollows his cheeks and deep throats him, until Clint is silent and jerking his hips up in frustration. His dick brushes the back of Steve's throat, but Steve's getting used to this, getting accustomed to the feel of Clint fucking his mouth, fucking his ass, kissing his shoulders and biting down, just to see if he can bruise. He always comes with a shout, a prayer and a praise on his tongue as Steve swallows him down. 

Steve crawls toward him on the bed and says, "Stop talking so much," before slicking up his fingers and pushing two right into Clint's ass, because he asked for it when they started. He asked for Steve to get him off, fuck him while he was boneless and soft, fuck him until he was hard again. Clint always wants to be punished for shit he didn't do, and Steve is always good at following orders. They make a good team. 

"That's good, that's so fucking good--" Steve's fingers curl and Clint clenches around him, nerves still sensitive and body still recovering. "Not a kid like you anymore. Can't get it up so quick."

"You know it's got nothing to do with age," Steve mutters, but he's sort of proud of it all the same. Clint grins and lays his head back on the pillows, fucking himself down on Steve's fingers, asking for more. He's always wanting more.

When Steve finally slides in, slick and hard and ready, it feels so good, feels like going home sometimes. They slot together so well, Clint so light and Steve so _much_ for one person. Usually Clint ends up on top, riding him and running his hands over Steve's chest. But sometimes, like tonight, he just lays on his back, watching Steve work above him, threading their fingers together.

"S'good?" Steve asks, half out of his mind because it's good for him, it's really fucking good for him. Clint nods and hums happily, letting Steve haul his legs over each shoulder. "How are you always so _tight_?"

"Just for you, babe."

Steve groans. "We _talked_ about that."

"Talk _less_ and fuck me, _Jesus._ "

"I don't like that one either," Steve says, grinning.

"Fuck you."

"Opposite, actually." Steve bottoms out and groans at how hot everything is around him, how fucking perfect Clint always is, ready and laid out. "God, that's good. You like it? S'what you live for, isn't it?" Clint has been helping Steve perfect his dirty talk, but it turns out Steve never really needed help. Clint's idea of the 40's comes from TV shows about them made in the sixties, not watched until '93. It's like playing telephone with the decades and learning that the word at the start was filthy and dirty and came out of Steve's mouth in the first place. 

"Harder," Clint orders. "You know what I like."

"Yeah, I do. I know better than you do, don't I? Because I'm the one who's fucking you. I'm the one who makes you feel this good. Say it," he adds, leaning down and fucking in harder. "Go on."

"Steve--"

"You know how much I love you like this. Love it when you're begging for me." Clint groans, the world's most reluctant sub.

"I am not going to beg for your cock."

"Fine," Steve mutters. "You're no fun."

"Come inside me," Clint says instead, and Steve totally loses it, comes almost on command, only a second passing between Clint telling him to and when he finally empties his load, fucking in and in and in until he can't even move anymore. Clint's totally spent, clasping Steve to him as Steve just fucking uses him, staying inside even as he softens. Clint runs his fingers through Steve's hair, smells sweat and the generic tang of his shampoo. "You're so good at that, babe."

"Thanks, pumpkin."

Clint laughs. "I actually like that one."

Steve rolls over, punching him in the arm. "Liar."


End file.
